


You Saw Through Me (All This Time)

by Spoonck (RebeccaMeyers12)



Category: Moominvalley (Cartoon 2019), Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson
Genre: Anorexia, Eating Disorders, M/M, Might write more if people are interested, Moomin is a sweetheart, Recovery, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, minor animal death, trans snufkin, vent fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-04-23 08:16:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 18,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19147096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RebeccaMeyers12/pseuds/Spoonck
Summary: Snufkin wasn't quite sure when it started. He had been pleasantly round as a little child, the mymble side of him ensured he had never been very thin. Yet there came a point in his life (He couldn’t be sure where) when food became a treat, rather than a necessity. Where he felt more content to smoke his lungs black rather than sit down to a meal. Where he began to admire ankles and wrists like twigs, like a birds bones, jutting collarbones, and a rib cage that was perfectly visible. In some ways, he felt like a skeletal tree.





	1. I'd forgotten people are kind

**Author's Note:**

> Projection Level 100

When one is a wanderer, and when one wanders in winter specifically, they must get used to going days, sometimes weeks without a proper meal. Snufkin knew this. Despite how Moominmamma packed his pack to the brim with food at the end of fall each year, the resources seemed to deplete without him even touching them. There were places to stop, of course, town and villages and the odd marketplace, but as a wanderer, Snufkin had never had much money, nor much use for it.

Snufkin wasn't quite sure when it started. He had been pleasantly round as a little child, the mymble side of him ensured he had never been very thin. Yet there came a point in his life (He couldn’t be sure where) when food became a treat, rather than a necessity. Where he felt more content to smoke his lungs black rather than sit down to a meal. Where he began to admire ankles and wrists like twigs, like a birds bones, jutting collarbones, and a rib cage that was perfectly visible. In some ways, he felt like a skeletal tree. Long, and spindly and willowy, branching off into his long, thin limbs. He appreciated the comparison. It disconcerted him some days, how he got so used to going without food, and being the thinnest person in the room, especially in moominvalley, where everyone seemed blessed with a round, healthy figure. Of course, eating moominmamma’s cooking every day probably contributed to that. 

Snufkin fingered the silver harmonica in the pocket of his coat, toying with the idea of releasing the spring tune. Moominvalley must be only a few days away now, but perhaps it wasn't time to play just yet. It needed time to brew, to build upon itself delicate as the threads in a spider web, lush and full as the petals of a flower, sweet as summer honey, lonely as a rainy spring morning, and clear as the sky, or a certain trolls eyes-

Snufkin shook his head. Moomintroll was lovely, wonderful, and his dearest friend- and in the bottom of his heart and in the back of his mind he wished- he hoped- for something more. But he couldn't think of that right now. Right now, he needed to think only of his tune, and allow it to grow, until he could release it, like opening a birds cage. Behind him, there was a rustle in the bushes. Snufkin ignored it. It was probably a creep, or a squirrel. If it was the former, Snufkin prayed it wouldn't try to initiate a conversation. 

Snufkin was well aware that he had not eaten in more than a couple of days. What had it been? Pine needles? Yes. And snow, melted in a saucepan. Pine needle-tea. That was it. Perhaps it was time to make camp. Yet as Snufkin shrugged off his backpack, the drone of dull hunger that had been humming in his stomach for the past few days- weeks, rose to a sudden white hot shock of pained emptiness. The hunger, clawing and scrabbling, struck him in the pit of his gut. Snufkin trailed a paw to his abdomen, noting how small his waist felt, how thin he had gotten. He huffed in pain, and slowly, rolled out his bedroll. He couldn't feasibly set up the tent in this condition. Slowly, as hunger wracked his stomach, Snufkin gathered sticks and branches, twigs and anything he could find. Taking a deep breath, he reached out a paw and steadied himself against a tree. His vision swam. The air was getting warmer this time of year, as spring steadily approached, but Snufkin noted how cold he felt, despite the many layers he wore. Slowly, Snufkin straightened up, and wrapped his arms around his abdomen. Perhaps-perhaps there was no need for a fire, either. Snufkin made his way to the bedroll, and climbed inside. He looked up through the ring of trees, with their skeletal branches, and up to the quiet darkness of the sky, unaware of the strange eyes that watched him from the bushes. Snufkin fell asleep to the sound of snow melting, of birds and small animals waking up, and the sound of a new spring night.

-X-X-X-

The morning sun cast a glittering ray of light to glitter on Snufkin’s eyelids, waking him from formless dreams. Snufkin yawned, and sat up, noting the empty groan of his insides. Today. Today he would find something, anything edible, and force himself to eat it. One little meal couldn't possibly hurt him, could it?

“Ah, but Snufkin,” He said to himself, his voice hollow in the morning air, “One meal turns into two, and then into three, and before you know it, you’ve eaten so much, you’ve gotten too big to go on your yearly walk.” The thought of it pained him. Snufkin began to climb out of his sleeping bag, only to suddenly notice a blanket, draped over him. What? He had certainly never had acquired a blanket on his journeys. He had never seen it before. But it was warm, and soft enough. Perhaps some creep had put it on him? Or- or some wandering traveler thinking of being a Good Samaritan? Either way, Snufkin was discomfited by the idea of someone standing over him in the night, watching him sleep, and draping a blanket over his sleeping form. Snufkin climbed out of his sleeping bag, and moved to pick up his backpack. 

It was at that point, he saw the dead bird.

It had been stripped of its feathers, gutted and neatly arranged on a flat stone adjacent to where his backpack had been. Snufkin gagged at the sight of it, and fought down a sob as he reached for it with trembling, pale hands. 

“Oh no.” He said. “Oh no, oh no. No. Who- who would have-” And he began to cry, despite himself. Who would have done this? Who would have tortured and killed a living creature, and just left it here? Who would have been so monstrous? Snufkin retched, feeling nauseated and sick with guilt, and so terribly sad. Perhaps it had had a family. Perhaps he had even spoken to it, before. 

Snufkin buried the dead bird solemnly, crying to himself all the way. In his small, pale hands, he gently cupped the bird, and softly set it in the small hole, before burying it. Then, he stood before the grave for a minute in sad silence, before taking his backpack and leaving. Moominvalley was close. It was time for his journey to be over. He needed to play his tune, and get himself back home, to moomintroll, to his familiar campsite. He steadied himself, and set off on his way.

At least his hunger had been assuaged by the sickening experience.


	2. I was hurting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: Posts vent fic not expecting people to like it  
> People: Like it  
> Me: Nowyougottawritemore.jpg

What was left of the melting snow crunched under Snufkin’s boots as he slowly made his way along the forest path. He closed his eyes as he walked, allowing himself to feel the rhythm the earth made, the sound of creeps twirling through undergrowth, the rustle of trees, the sound the clouds made as they drifted in the sky, and the smell of spring, and the world waking up. He stopped. With his eyes closed, he reached into his pocket, and pulled out his harmonica and raised it to his lips. One last time, he waited, breath hovering, hearing the sound of spring. And he played.

He slowly frowned as he drew away from the harmonica. No. That wasn’t right, not at all. He tried again. And again. But the music, no matter how he tried, came out sad, creeping, unnatural and twisted. Like the sound of a beast waiting in the back of a cave, a monster hovering under water below a travelers canoe, a panther waiting in the trees, The Groke outside of your door. It was wrong. All wrong. The spring tune was meant to be fresh, beautiful and sad, full of new beginnings and new hope and new love- but this wasn't that. It sounded like emptiness. It sounded like cold stormy nights away from the one you love.

It sounded like hunger.

Was it the hunger still brewing deep inside him that caused this? Had it affected him that much?

Snufkin bit his lip, and continued on, stubbornly playing onward, the strange cold song rippling above the trees, and into the clouds, into the skies and into the ears of creeps, and birds, and the strange man in the trees who frowned when he heard the odd tune, and all wandering things that followed Snufkin, because they knew of what he brought, how the springtime came with him. 

-X-X-X-

Moomintroll impatiently tapped his foot as he watched Moominmamma slowly, oh so slowly, ladle jam onto a slice of bread, before putting another slice on top of it, and putting into a basket.

“Mama,” He huffed. “Snufkin’s going to be here soon! What if I’m not there to meet him?” Moominmamma rewarded his plea with a patient smile, before slipping a small jar of jam inside of the basket as well. “If that happens, dear, I’m sure he’ll forgive you when he sees your picnic basket.” Moomintroll rolled his eyes. Moominpappa looked up from his newspaper. “Quite so, my son. Why, I remember back in my days of youth, nothing smoothed over a disagreement quite so well as a good meal, and dear Moominmamma’s cooking is the surest sign of that…” But Moomintroll quit listening at this point, grabbing the basket out of Moominmamma’s paws the moment she offered it to him, running around the table, and out the front door. Little My looked up from carving her initials on the fence post with a small knife (Where had she gotten that? Best let Mama know, Little My with a knife was a terrifying thought.) 

“Where are you off to, you old fuzzball?” She called after him, her raucous voice sharp as a corvids call in the new spring morning.

“To see Snufkin!” He called back, not stopping. To think, It was finally spring again! And any day now, perhaps any minute, Snufkin would be here! Why, he could be making his way right along the bridge now!

...Well, he wasn’t, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t still very close! Moomintroll took a seat on the bridge, tossing a jar of jam back and forth to himself, nearly vibrating with excitement. Dear, dear Snufkin, his sweet friend, back again! Oh, the fun they’d have. And Snufkin would certainly be pleased to see him. This year, Moomintroll had prepared a picnic the both of them could share, and he was certain Snufkin would be delighted. Poor Snufkin always got so very thin, almost dreadfully think on his winter journey, so the moominfamily always did their best to ensure he was a little healthier by the time he left again. Moomintroll was sure Snufkin appreciated that.

Suddenly, from far away, as though in a tunnel, Moomintroll heard a thread of music, rising above the sound of trees rustling, and birds chirping, heard it getting louder, and steadier. Moomintroll jumped up in excitement, looking around. The spring tune! It had to be! And yet… Somehow, it didn't sound right. The sound of it, long, and cold, and so very alone, made Moomintroll’s heart want to break. It sounded like something dying that did not want to go, lost love, regrets that were never made up for, old mistakes that were never forgiven, and above it all, hunger. So much hunger.

And there he was, walking along the path. His dear, beloved Snufkin playing his harmonica. There was a large blanket wrapped around him. Poor Snufkin! He must be cold!

Moomintroll rushed forward. “Snufkin!” He cried. Snufkin looked up, and tucked his harmonica away. Yet as Moomintroll approached, he noticed how cold and sick and… and thin Snufkin looked. He seemed so weak, so sickly…

Snufkin smiled lightly. “My moomintroll.” He said, and that was that. Moomintroll, abandoning his prior reservations, rushed forward, wrapped his arms around Snufkin, noting how slim his waist had gotten, and lifted him up (He was so light!) and spun him around, laughing. He heard the sweet sound of Snufkin’s gentle laugh, and was charmed. 

“Set me down this instant, you funny thing!” Snufkin demanded, laughing all the while. Moomintroll grinned, feeling brave and strong from Snufkin’s laugh, and wrapped an arm under Snufkin’s legs, until he held him like a bride. (What a comparison.) 

“Never. I shan’t. I shall carry you off and you’ll be mine forever!” Moomintroll laughed. Snufkin, despite the laughter and the joking, and the ease he felt around his dearest friend, felt slightly nervous at the sentence. Moomintroll looked into his friends face, and felt his laughter die in his chest.

“My Snufkin…” He said, composure and bravado lost. “Are you sick?” Surely Snufkin must be, he was so pale, skin nearly as white as the melting snow! Normally he got so tan on his journeys… his face resembled a skull, so thin and his cheekbones protruding… Moomintroll felt sick with worry.

“No. I’m- I’m well. Thank you, Moomintroll.” Snufkin said, leaning gently out of his friends arms, until his feet were back on the ground, noting the shakiness of his thin legs. Moomintroll let his paw linger on Snufkin’s arm, gently squeezing it. It felt like gripping a tree branch. So thin, so weak. Moomintroll took a long look at his friend and realized with dull horror that he could probably wrap his paws around Snufkin’s waist, he had gotten so thin! 

“Snufkin, come on! I brought a picnic basket, we’ll sit down and enjoy it right away!” Moomintroll had planned to hike up the mountain with Snufkin, and enjoy the picnic there, but Snufkin looked so weak, and so thin, Moomintroll didn’t feel he would make it. Snufkin needed a good meal, and right away!

“Oh, I-” Snufkin began, but Moomintroll took his paw, and began to pull him to Snufkin’s usual camping spot.

“Now, you just sit and make yourself comfortable. I’ll set up! It’s all still very warm, because Mama practically just finished making it.” Moomintroll cast a glance at his friend, still worried at the slight figure underneath all of those layers. Was Snufkin terribly cold? Well, if he was, he could sit next to Moomintroll. Right next to him. If he had wanted to, (Why would he? Of course he wouldn’t.) Snufkin could sit right in Moomintroll’s lap. He wouldn’t be obtrusive at all. Moomintroll could wrap his big, furry arms around him and keep him warm, and press his snout against Snufkin’s neck, and- 

Moomintroll shook his head and spread out the blanket inside of the picnic basket, and lay out the food. Moominmamma was very diligent about keeping her family well fed, so the spread was excellent. Moomintroll turned to Snufkin with a broad smile. “Come sit!” He said. “What do you think of the meal?” 

Snufkin looked over the array of food. A whole loaf of golden bread and a jar of plum jam, a tin of homemade cookies, an entire pie, fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and plenty of vegetables. There was even a thermos of strawberry lemonade, as well as a few pancakes that looked as if they had been made that morning. Snufkin felt his stomach groan so hard it was almost painful. He licked his lips, and sat beside Moomintroll. Moomintroll chattered on about something or other as he dished out portions onto their plates, and handed a serving to Snufkin. But as he talked, the world seemed to go fuzzy. All Snufkin could see on that plate was fat. How much sugar was in the cookies, the pie, the pancake? How much weight could you gain from a serving of potatos? From the chicken? 

Tomorrow, I can eat vegetables. Nothing but vegetables and water. It’ll be alright. One little meal won’t affect me. Snufkin felt dizzy. Hesitantly, he reached for a cookie, held it to his mouth. He felt weak. Just one bite… One bite won’t hurt. I’ll work hard, tomorrow. I won’t eat a thing tomorrow, if I can just eat this one thing. Please. I’ll never eat again if I can just have this one meal…

Snufkin felt sick as he took the smallest of bites, and set the cookie back down onto his plate. He looked back at Moomintroll who had ceased talking and was looking at him contemplatively. Snufkin smiled weakly. 

“Wonderful meal.” He said, raising a carrot stick to his mouth, and lowering it again as Moomintroll looked away. He took a hesitant bite of it, and felt disgusted with himself for doing so.

“Yes,” Moomintroll said uncomfortably as he traced something in the dirt with a claw. “Snufkin, are you sure-” 

Snufkin reached for his backpack. “Where is my pipe?” He said. “I always fancy a smoke after a meal. Want to share a smoke with me, Moomintroll?” His hands shook as he dug through his pack. Moomintroll looked at Snufkin’s plate. Virtually nothing had been touched! So snufkin must be ill. Maybe Moominmamma would be able to fix this. Moomintroll had never heard of people not wanting Moominmamma’s cooking! 

“Snufkin,” Moomintroll said. “Have you tried the potatos? Or the pie? Or maybe the chicken? It’s wonderful. Mama worked very hard on it.” 

“Yes, yes. It was fantastic. I- I think I need to go… Lay down. No. I need to set up camp…” Snufkin said. He felt dizzy and hot and cold all at the same time. He felt like he was floating. He stood up, and immediately faceplanted into the ground. Ignoring Moomintroll’s shout of ‘Snufkin!’, Snufkin got back up, and limped away into the woods. Moomintroll watched him go, wishing to run after him, but not wanting to offend him at the same time. Something was definitely, seriously wrong with his Snufkin.

“I need to talk to Mama,” He said with an air of finality. “She’ll know what to do.”

And Moomintroll turned, and ran for the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little My has a knife now and you better watch out


	3. And You Knew

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick emetophobia warning. It doesn't go into detail, but if you want avoid it, stop reading at the sentence "Snufkin limped through the woods..." And start reading at "He rubbed his face..."

Moomintroll burst into the kitchen. “Mama!” He called. Moominmamma, who was preparing for supper, looked at him.

“Don’t shout in the house, my moomintroll. Now come in. What’s the matter?” She said, her soft voice gentle and calming. Moomintroll, suddenly struck by the seriousness of what he was about to say, fidgeted with his hands.

“Mama… I have something serious to tell you. It’s about Snufkin.”

-X-X-X-

Snufkin limped through the woods, feeling colder and fainter with every passing moment, until he finally came to a stop in a circular clearing. What little food he had eaten churned in his stomach until he found himself gagging, retching, and emptying his stomach. His shoulders trembled as he dry heaved, letting out a sob. He rubbed his face, closing his eyes against his hands and pretended there was nothing in the world that existed except for him. He wheezed, breathing in and out, calming himself as best as he could. The forest was silent.

How could he have been so stupid? What would Moomintroll say when he got back? Would he be suspicious? Would he be angry? Snufkin felt sick with worry.

“What have I done?” He asked himself. His voice sounded hollow. “I just… I just want to sleep.” Snufkin wished he could just lay there on the ground forever, until the dirt slowly covered him, and new plants grew over him. Snufkin wished he could lie down forever. He wrapped his arms around his knees, and tucked his head down. The man in the trees watched him carefully.

-X-X-X-

The Joxter frowned, and reached under his shirt, retrieving the plain locket he kept around his neck at all times. His dear Mymble had given it to him some time ago, and he remembered what she had said vividly.

“This is the only picture I have of him,” she had said, taking it from around her neck and handing it to him. “Find him for me. You should meet your son.”

“Where shall I look?” He had asked.

“Anywhere. Anywhere in the world. He’s a traveler, that one. But if anyone will find him, you will.”

He had nodded. “We’ll be a family.”

And she had smiled, and he remembered why he had fallen in love with her.

And for years, he had searched. But now… could it be? Was it truly him? He hadn’t been quite sure, but…

The Joxter looked back and forth between the boy on the ground, and the picture inside of the locket. The picture (He was not sure when it was taken,) showed his beloved Mymble, all wrapped in fine scarves, red hair gleaming, her round figure so beautiful to look at, and a small round-faced sweet looking little boy balanced on her lap. This boy in the clearing was older, certainly, and so thin… But it had to be him. It had to be.

The Joxter had been following him for many days, unsure of his identity at first, then unsure of how to approach him, and finally concerned. Snufkin (It wasn't a name he would have chosen, but what could be done? A name is a name.) never seemed to stop to eat, and only stopped to rest a few times in a week. It was worrying. At first, The Joxter had believed that perhaps the boy was incapable of hunting, and had left him a gift. He had even taken great pains to clean it, and pluck the feathers. (He would have eaten it whole). But the boy simply buried it, weeping all the while! The Joxter was unsure of why this was. Perhaps the boy was soft hearted? Either way, Joxter did not like to see his child suffering. So he followed Snufkin, keeping bigger predators out of his route, protecting him from danger while he walked. At one point in the night, he climbed down from his tree, and watched Snufkin’s thin chest rise and fall, reminding him of a wounded bird. It was a chilly night, and Snufkin shivered from within his sleeping bag. The Joxter scratched his head, and retrieved a blanket from his bag, which he draped over Snufkin. For a while, he watched Snufkin shift in his sleep, hopefully warmer, as his breathing changed and shifted with the night wind, until, exhausted, he bent down, brushed the stray hair from Snufkin’s face, and kissed his forehead as lightly as he could. His son. His own son, here, right in front of him.

The Joxter watched Snufkin wrap his arms around his knees, and begin to cry to himself. His heart nearly broke in two at the sound of Snufkin’s wretched sobs. Perhaps now…? Should he speak to him now? Perhaps Snufkin would be frightened. The Joxter didn't want to scare him- only speak with him. Maybe he could convince Snufkin to come with him if he was very gentle with how he spoke.

“Alright, little one. I’m The Jox- I’m your father. I know we don’t really know each other, but your mother- My Mymble- That is to say, we want you to come home so we can- Ugh, how can I speak to him?” The Joxter furrowed his brow, mind running over countless things he could say to Snufkin to explain the situation. How could he do this? Supposing Snufkin tried to run away? The Joxter thought more on it. Snufkin looked light enough, easy to carry- Would Mymble be very angry if he dragged Snufkin home?

Yes. Probably.

Probably a lot.

The Joxter sighed, and straightened up. It was time to simply do it. Just go over there, and talk to him. He straightened his shoulders, and took a step forward, and-

“Snufkin!”

The Joxter froze and shrunk back into the tree as a little… garbage gremlin ran into the clearing. Snufkin looked up, and wiped his eyes.

“What is it, Little My?” He asked.

“Where have you been? You didn’t even stop to say hello to me! It’s the first day of spring, but Moomintroll gets all of the attention?” Little My said. The Joxter frowned. This garbage gremlin child spoke very loudly, and it offended his ears. Very well. He would keep tabs on Snufkin. He could wait. Now that he knew where he was, he could talk to him later. The Joxter slinked away into the trees, giving a final affection look to his son, and was soon gone.

-X-X-X-

Snufkin rolled his eyes as Little My berated him. “Little My, I would have spoken to you sooner or later. Stop acting like I never spend time with you.” Little My scowled. Snufkin felt a pang of genuine fear ring through him as he noticed the small knife in her hand, and resolved to be more careful with his wording.

“Well I saw you, going off on a picnic with Moomintroll! You didn’t even invite me!” She said. Snufkin sighed, and stood up, brushing dirt off of his pants. “You can have all the leftovers you want,” He said, walking back towards moominhouse. “I certainly don’t need them.”

As Snufkin walked away, Little My’s face softened. She hadn’t noticed just how thin he had gotten. He had always been thin, of course, but… Something didn't feel quite right.

“Say… Snufkin, I didn’t mean it.” She called to his retreating back. “You can have a picnic alone with Moomintroll if you really want it…” She said, trailing off before a mischievous grin found its way on to her face. “I know how lovers are. They need time alone!” Snufkin spluttered, and turned around to look at her.

“We! Are Not! Lovers!” He cried hoarsely, jabbing a finger at her. Little My scoffed. “Keep telling yourself that. I’ve seen the way he looks at you!” Snufkin began walking faster, though it was very difficult to do so. He still felt sick, and arguing didn't do much to help.

“I am not listening!” He shouted.

“I’ve read his diary, you know! He can’t hide things at all. He writes love poems!”

Snufkin felt his face go red, and broke into a weak run. Little My, not deterred, kept up with her game. “Maybe they’re about Snorkmaiden!” He yelled, refusing to even look at Little My.

“Oh, I doubt that! _His eyes are as brown as chocolate, his lips are sweet as honey…”_

Snufkin shrieked and ran across the bridge up to Moominhouse. Little My finally stopped walking, and put her hands on her hips, smirking. However, the smirk faded as she watched Snufkin’s limping gait, the tremor of his legs, and how weak he seemed. A wave of concern rose through her body as she watched him.

“Oh you fool,” She said quietly to his retreating back, “What are you doing with yourself?”

-X-X-X-

“And that’s everything,” Moomintroll said, leaning back in his seat, anxious about what Moominmamma would say. She nodded slowly, deliberating on what she had been told.

“And you say he barely touched his meal?” She said. Moomintroll nodded. “Mama, he barely took two bites of his food! And then he just… ran away! Well, limped away. Mama, he looked so sad and sick! What if he's very sick, mama?” Moomintroll felt his anxiety rise higher and higher. What if his dear Snufkin was terribly ill? What if he was dying? What would Moomintroll do without him? He would never be happy again!

No. No. If Snufkin was ill with the most terrible disease that existed, Moomintroll would climb the tallest mountain, and fight the strongest beasts in the world to find him a cure. If Snufkin needed to be bedridden, Moomintroll would sit by his side all all hours to keep him company and tend to him until Snufkin felt better. If Snufkin was ill, Moomintroll would do everything in his power to help him get well. Mama set a paw on top of Moomintroll’s.

“There there,” She said. “Don’t worry, dear. We’ll have him for dinner tonight, and see if he’s feeling any better. If he doesn’t seem to be… We’ll talk with him. We’ll find out what’s wrong. Snufkin has always been very thin, dear.” Despite her calm words, Moomintroll was not reassured.

“But he’s never been like this around food! He looks like he’s on deaths door, mama!” He cried. Moominmamma smiled. “If something is very wrong with Snufkin, we’ll help him to get better. He’s our family. We’ll take care of him.”

Moomintroll sighed. If only dinner could come right away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want you all to know that I was almost too intimidated by the idea of Little My with a knife to refer to her as a "Garbage Gremlin."


	4. So You Showed Me What To Do

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok guys, I'm not going to lie. This chapter has some pretty heavy themes to it. If you need a TW with a note saying where the scenes begin, please skip to endnotes. If not, please be aware that this chapter includes suicidal thoughts, self hatred, and self harm. Please use the TW if you need it. Getting spoiled is better than hurting yourself. Also, I know these chapters have been dark and sad lately, but they will get better. I promise.

Snufkin climbed the steps to the door of Moominhouse on shaking, glass legs. He stood outside the door for a moment, holding his breath. He looked down for a long moment, squeezing his eyes shut tight, and taking in a deep breath. He swayed lightly. Slowly, he put his paw to the doorknob, and opened the door. He was greeted by the sight of Moominmamma and Moomintroll sitting at the table, two steaming mugs of coffee between them.

“Oh, Snufkin! Come in!” Moomintroll said. “We just made coffee! I’ll pour you a cup!” Snufkin entered quietly, removing his coat and hat before hanging them on a hook beside the door. Slowly, methodically, he took his seat. Moominmamma took a long, pensive look at him.

“Snufkin, dear, would you like something to munch on before dinner is ready?” She asked. She sounded careful, as if she were talking to a wild animal. The comparison bothered him immensely. Snufkin looked up, and shook his head. At the sight of his face, something steely and stern gathered in Moominmamma’s eyes. She lay her hands on top of each other, carefully folding one thumb over the other, back and forth, back and forth. Snufkin cleared his throat.

“No, thank you Moominmamma.” Snufkin said. He looked down at his paws. Thin, pale and smudged with dirt. Bony. Disgusting disgusting disgusting. He looked at Moomintroll's paws. Soft. White as snow, as a cloud. Plush. Why could they be so round and healthy and alive? Why did they look so beautiful with all their extra weight, and he looked hideous no matter what he did? Why was everyone else so much better than he was? His paws were shaking, now. He moved them under the table. Moominmamma drifted a hand over to him, as if to pull his paws back, but seemed to think better of it.

“Snufkin, I’ve been thinking. Do you have a favorite kind of food?” Moominmamma said. Her voice was so soft. So kind. Too kind for him. Snufkin coughed.

“Well… I don’t know. I like anything you cook.” He said uncomfortably. Where was she going with this? Moominmamma glanced at Moomintroll.

“Well, Moomintroll said you didn’t seem to like the picnic today. So I thought, perhaps we could have a special dinner, just for you. I’ll make anything you like. If you wanted, I would even make you a chocolate cake. What do you think of that?” She said. She splayed a paw on the table, as if wishing he would take hold of it. Snufkin slowly pressed a claw into his paw. “Well… I wouldn’t… I don't know. You… you could make anything. You don’t need to make anything for me.” It was then that Snufkin realized that Moominmamma must be terribly offended with him! She must have been upset that he didn’t like the picnic she had worked so hard to prepare. He should have at least eaten some. He could have thrown it up later- He could have at least pretended to enjoy it. Snufkin dug his claw in deeper, feeling the skin give way. Good. He deserved that. He deserved so much more for hurting and inconveniencing this family.

“Snufkin, it would be a fun thing. I always love to make food for my family.” Snufkin bit his lip, and pressed the claw in deeper, feeling the white-sharp pain as blood slowly flowed down his paw. Ow, ow. He shook his head. “That’s very kind of you, Moominmamma. I promise I’ll think about it.” No, he would go and pinch his skin off to assuage the guilt in his stomach. Moominmamma smiled faintly. She looked at him again.

“Snufkin… Why don’t you go and have a nice, hot bath before dinner? Wash up a bit. You’ll feel excellent afterwards.” Snufkin stood slowly, burying the bleeding paw in his pocket, and trod upstairs into the bathroom, gnawing at his lip all the way. Once inside, he closed and locked the door. He did not turn on the lights, but lit a candle set on the sink counter. He reached out and turned the spout until the water gushing out was steaming. Perhaps if the water was hot enough, he could burn off the sickness, the emptiness, the hate and filth he carried. Perhaps he could melt the skin off of his bones until he was nothing. Snufkin turned away from the mirror as he pulled his clothes off, and stepped into the tub, flinching at how hot the water was. He dunked his head under the water, and came back up gasping. Then, he scrubbed at his arms, his legs, his stomach, his chest. But no matter how hard he scrubbed, all his scum, his filth would not come off. He wished he could take the sponge and scrub himself away. He sank back under the water, eyes open despite the sting, and held his breath, listening to his heartbeat.

Thump. Thump. Thump. If he let go of his breath, let himself inhale, he would drown here. They’d find him hours later and be sickened with him. Perhaps they would hate him for leaving them with a mess to clean. Snufkin came back up, and stared at his bone-white knees, then at his paw which hovered in the water. Blood streamed gently from it, the blood floating in the surface of the water, like a thin delicate red ribbon. He twirled a finger and cut the blood-ribbon in half, watching mesmerized at the thin lines he could trace in the water. Perhaps he could turn the water pink.

Snufkin absentmindedly took the cut into his mouth to staunch the bleeding. He ran a paw through his hair, and dunked back down. When he came back up, he was crying.

-X-X-X-

“So you agree something is wrong?” Moomintroll said, staring at the space where snufkin had been.

Moominmamma was a quiet Moomin. She preferred actions over words. She preferred to allow her husband to do the talking. But she was not simple. She was not foolish, nor ignorant. She was a mother. And she knew when a family member was in need.

She did feel rather disgusted with herself for not comprehending the seriousness of the situation when Moomintroll had first spoken with her. Moomintroll was a worrisome boy, but he was intelligent. He too knew when something was well and truly wrong.

But Snufkin… Dear Snufkin. The moment she saw him in the doorway, standing there…

He was thin. More than thin. He was skeletal. When she had briefly attended school, she had seen a diagram of a body. There had been organs and flesh and veins, but at the very last diagram, there had been a skeleton. The only thing separating Snufkin from that picture was a thin layer of skin, and hair. Her boy. Her boy was starving and he refused food. Why? Why would any creature do such a thing? It was almost beyond comprehension to her.

He had acted so odd, so afraid and quiet that it was as if she were meeting him for the first time. He wouldn't even look her in the eye. And when he raised his face to the light, let her get a good look at his face for the first time in months…

His lovely honey-colored skin she had always thought so pretty was dull and pale as a sheet. His eye sockets looked hollow. His cheekbones protruded like boulders on the beach. His lips were pale and scuffed. His eyes seemed so… dead. Did he want to die? Did he want to get himself killed? Her jaw tightened.

 _You think you can get away with that? With hurting yourself, in my house? In my home? You think I’d allow it? I’ll force you to eat. I’ll force it down your-_ And she was stricken with horror. She sounded like Mrs. Fillyjonk. No, she could not force poor Snufkin. That would never do. This needed to be reasoned out. Worked with. She would talk to him.

Why did Snufkin feel the need to starve himself? She felt a wave of sorrow raise in her.

_Who has done this to you? Who made you do this to yourself? Who has made you think this way? Who hurt you? Who hurt one of my children? And more importantly, what will I do to them when I find out?_

“Yes, dear. Very wrong.” She said.

-X-X-X-

Snufkin stood up as the water drained, and dried himself with a towel. He turned slowly, and faced himself in the mirror.

The mirror, split into three separate parts reflected three Snufkins. Skin burned pink from the heat of the bath, all hollow eyed, all dead skinned, all sickly looking. When he leaned closer, he saw rows and rows of pink-skinned, hollow eyed, dead skinned, sickly looking Snufkins in the depths of the mirror. He raised a skeletal hand and they all raised one in reply. Face inches away from the mirror, he huffed, the steam covering a snufkin-face for a moment before melting away and revealing it again, like a grinning skull. He straightened up, looking at himself contemplatively.

If he squinted, tilted his head, he looked like a corpse.

When Snufkin was a child, he ran away from home. It had been so loud. He remembered rocks thrown, pinching fingers… He remembered soft baby fat, and squishy legs. And he ran. It wasn't difficult. With thirty-four children, one could easily go missing and never be noticed. He knew no one remembered him.

He didn't get far when he ran. He made it to an orphanage where they took his clothes and replaced them with sackcloth, took away his name and gave him a number. He remembered the food, cold gruel or soup. Getting thinner, bonier, hands and wrists and arms and legs fading and disappearing…

And escaping, vanishing into the night, until he reappeared to see his reflection in a pond, and was disgusted with the sight. He was free, but hideous. Was it better to be beautiful and imprisoned?

When Snufkin was little, someone read him a story of a beautiful princess who pricked her finger on a needle (Was it a needle? Or a pin? Something sewing…) and fell asleep for a hundred years. She didn’t age. She slept and slept and dreamed of soft princess things until a handsome prince kissed her, and she woke up, and the handsome prince took her far away to a land of softness and kindness and love. Snufkin felt like that princess, sometimes. Minus the beautiful part. Snufkin wished he could lie down forever. Sleep for a hundred years or more, and there wouldn't be any prince coming around, nor anyone for that matter, that’s for certain. He disgusted himself.

Snufkin rested his forehead against the mirror and sobbed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW-  
> Self Harm begins at the sentence: "She splayed a paw on the table, as if wishing he would take hold of it." and ends at "Moominmamma smiled faintly."  
> Self hatred and Suicidal thoughts begin at the sentence: "He reached out and turned the spout until the water gushing out was steaming." and ends at the -X-X-X- marker. If you would rather have a brief description of this scene, let me know and I'll write one. As always, thank you for reading.


	5. You Said, 'I Will Listen'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whooeee nellie 
> 
> *Whips out 8000000000000 chapters as don't stop me now plays in the background*

Snufkin came downstairs to a well set table. He caught sight of an enormous pot of soup big enough to take a bath in, a bowl full of golden rolls, a tray of steamed vegetables, and a pie as wide around as a bicycle wheel. It smelled incredible. His stomach actually seemed to pulse with hunger. Moominmamma bustled in, round and soft and lovely and kind, holding a pitcher of some sort of golden liquid. She smiled at him.

“Snufkin, dear. Take a seat. Moomintroll's washing his paws, and I’m sure the others will be here soon!” She said, voice as tight, prepared and well-oiled as a newly built machine. Gazing around uncertainly, Snufkin took his seat. Moomintroll entered from the kitchen. There was a dusting of the golden liquid on his snout, making Snufkin smile gently. What a lovely moomin. So much better than him in every way. Moomintroll noticed him staring, crossed his eyes to look at his snout (which loosened a rare giggle from Snufkin’s lips,) and licked the mess off. He grinned at Snufkin, as he took a seat beside him.

“Did you enjoy your bath?” He asked, voice jovial and clear. Snufkin’s eyebrow twitched and he shifted his paw out of sight. Snufkin looked up at Moomintroll as Moominpappa entered the room.

“Hello, hello my dear family. Snufkin. My, you’ve gotten thin!” Moominpappa said, doffing his hat to Moominmamma. She gave him a thin, cool look. Moominpappa shut his mouth and sat down.

“It was fine, thank you.” Snufkin said to Moomintroll as Moominpappa spoke.

“And the sea, did you see the sea this day, my dear?” Moominpappa said.

“Did you feel very relaxed?” Moomintroll said, eyes wandering over Snufkin’s face. What was there to see? _Look away, my Moomintroll. Look away, you funny old thing. There’s nothing here._

“Quite lovely indeed. We’ll plan a picnic.” Moominmamma said.

“Yes. Relaxing. Very much. I feel quite tired, thought. It's this weather…” Snufkin said, trailing off.

“A picnic? Perhaps that’d do. Nothing sparks the imagination so as a good meal and a dose of the raw elements of nature! My memoirs have been a little sparse lately-”

“But the weather is very warm, don’t you agree?” Moomintroll said.

“Dear, your memoirs are lovely.”

“Yes. It’s as warm as anything. Lovely day.” Snufkin said, gazing over Moomintroll’s shoulder at a beetle crawling outside the window. _Fly away. Fly away before they catch you and keep you forever all in the name of your good health._

“You say so, but they simply are _lacking_ -”

“Snufkin, I’m a little concerned for-”

“All I mean to say is they could be touched up, Moominmamma. Improved, embellished. You understand, don’t you, my de-”

“There’s nothing to be conc-”

“Quite, dear. Where’s Little My?”

“But all the same-”

“Threatening Sniff with a knife, last time I saw.”

“You needn’t worry over me. I am not a child.”

“A knife?! I knew one was missing from my set!”

“I’m not saying you’re a chi-”

“Well, she’ll be here soon eno-”

“You don’t understand-”

“What’s all this-”

“I want to hel-”

Little My burst into the room, tucking a small knife into her boot. “Hello! She shouted. Let’s eat up! I’ve got a lot of Sniff-threatening to do!” She jumped into her seat, grabbing her fork and knife. Moominmamma gave her a deadly look. Snufkin looked at Moomintroll, and away at his white bowl, admiring the lacy pink design painted on it. He imagined himself on a little boat, sailing over the whorls and loops of the lacy pink design, spinning around in the great loop-the-loops, hopping over small pink dots and little pink flowers. He reached for his water glass and took a long sip, looking through the bottom as if it were a telescope. Moominmamma began to dish soup into each bowl. Snufkin closed his eyes for a moment, and opened them again. There was nearly triple servings in his bowl. He looked at Moominmamma.

“Moominmamma, I can’t possibly eat this much.” He said. All went quiet. Snufkin cast a glance at Moomintroll, who was examining an incredibly important potato chunk in his soup. Little My stared at him, then at Moominmamma, then back at him before discovering her soup had very interesting potatoes in it as well. Moominpappa set down his spoon and looked Snufkin up and down.

“You look as though you could do with it, my good lad.” He said, smiling teasingly. Snufkin’s stomach seemed to scream with hunger. _Oh. I am so so hungry. I would do anything to eat this meal. Please let me eat. Please let me eat this meal, I just want to eat. That’s all._ Snufkin looked down at the bowl, and then up at Moominmamma. She smiled gingerly at him.

“If you can’t eat it all…” She began, and glanced at Moomintroll. Moomintroll took a deep breath, and looked directly at Snufkin.

“Snufkin, I’m worried- no, I’m terrified for you.” He said.

Snufkin said nothing.

“You’ve always been very thin. I understand that. But… You’re so thin it’s dangerous. Can’t you see that? You need to eat.” Moomintroll set a soft, white paw on his shoulder. Snufkin felt as though his heartbeat was echoing through the entire house, like a hellish furnace everyone could hear. Louder and faster. Thump thump thump thump thump thump-

Snufkin said nothing.

“What we want, dear, is for you to be healthy. I don’t understand what’s wrong-”

Thump thump thump thump thump thump-

“But I think you might feel better if you have something to eat. Then we can talk.”

_Thumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthump_

“Hey, can’t you see how skinny you are? What’s wrong with you, why don’t you eat?” Little My piped up. Snufkin bit into his lip. Snufkin said nothing.

“Little My, don’t be rude. Let’s be gentle, now.”

“We just believe you ought to eat something-”

“Why don’t you just eat-”

“How thin you’ve gotten my lad-”

“Ought to eat-”

“So thin-”

“Just want to help-”

“Thin-”

“How thin you’ve-”

“Be kind-”

“Please we just want to he-”

Snufkin burst into sobs, burying his face in his paws, shoulders shaking. Were the walls crumbling? Was the earth shattering apart? Was the comet back, crashing into the earth as he sobbed? Was everything dying around him?

He pushed away from the table, dodging paws and sympathetic bodies, and ran. He ran as fast as he could, away from the hunger and the growling stomach and the crying eyes and away from shattering worlds and ran until his legs collapsed and the world went black around him.

-X-X-X-

Too-Ticky cared deeply for people and creatures who had suffered. She lived with several invisible creatures who she tended to, and lived with, and loved. She understood pain, because she had experienced it through other people. She had bandaged cuts, held paws, wiped away tears, and rescued lost people who just needed to find their way back.

“Well, friend,” She said to the boy she had laid on the couch as her invisible roommates fretted over him. “You’ve certainly had the lions share, haven't you?”

The boy opened his eyes slowly, and began to sit up. Too-Ticky lurched forward.

“Hey, now,” She said. “Easy.” The boy nodded.

“I’m Too-Ticky,” She said, sitting on the edge of the couch. “What’s your name?”

The boy licked his scarred lips.

“Snufkin,” He croaked. “I’m a traveler.” Too-Ticky nodded.  
“I thought so. You seemed the type.” She smiled, noting his thin arms and neck.  
“Care to tell me why I found you passed out on the ground, Snufkin?” She asked. Snufkin stiffened, and looked up at her.

“I don’t know why you found me on the ground. I was aiming for a bush.” He said in a tone that could have been humorous. She smirked.

“Why are you so thin, Snufkin?” She asked. Snufkin said nothing. He looked at his paws, running a claw over the cut in his palm. Too-Ticky gently took his hand in hers.

“How’d this happen?” She said. Snufkin was silent. Too-Ticky felt a familiar strain of fury rise in her. “Who did it?” She said, voice getting rougher with anger. “Who did it to you?” Snufkin looked up at her, feeling a tear slip down his cheek.

“It was me.” He said. “I did it.” And Snufkin began to cry. Too-Ticky watched him, and stood, before retrieving a first aid kid from the shelf. Snufkin felt invisible paws brush against his cheek, his shoulders, his hair, in a comforting manner as he cried. Too-Ticky turned back to him, and began to wrap his injured hand with a bandage. Snufkin looked up at her. Too-Ticky smiled.

“Snufkin,” She said, rolling up a sleeve, “The thing about scars is that they don’t go away. Not really. They get lighter or darker sometimes, or they reopen and hurt to high heaven, but they never really leave you.” Snufkin looked at Too-Ticky’s arm, littered with haphazard scars, some jagged, some neat and straight. His jaw fell open, and he traced one.

“So they never go away,” He said, wiping his eyes. “That doesn’t make me feel better. It means I’ll always have a reminder that I was weak.” Too-Ticky grabbed his face with both hands, making him look her in the eye.

“No.” She said. “No, and don’t you ever say that to yourself.” She took his hand and squeezed it. “It means you survived.”

A hoarse sob escaped Snufkin’s lips. “I- I am so stupid.” Snufkin said. Too-Ticky patted his shoulder. “Tell me about it.” She said.

Snufkin turned until his legs dangled over the couch. “I can’t eat,” he said, snuffling. “I want to, but I don’t want to. I can’t. It makes me sick to think of eating.” Too-Ticky watched him solemnly.

“Why is that?” She said. Snufkin shook his head.

“I can’t- I don’t- I don’t want to gain any weight.”

“Why?”

“Because- Because- It’s bad.”

Too-Ticky rose to her feet. “It’s bad to carry some extra weight on you?” She said. Snufkin said nothing.

“So you must hate me, then.” Too-Ticky said. Snufkin looked up in horror. “No!” He said frantically. “No, you- you’re fine! I don’t hate you.”

“So why hate yourself, then? Why is it any different for me to be heavy than for you to be heavy?”

“I- I can’t explain it. You- It’s fine for other people. Everyone else looks better than me anyways. But- I just can’t allow myself to be heavy. I’d- it- I just don’t know.”

Too-Ticky watched him, and pressed her lips together in a thin line. “I think you ought to go to the Moomins. You seem like you could use a good family.” Snufkin let out a low sob. “That’s where I came from.” He said. Too-Ticky thought about this.

“Then you better go back. You need to get better, Snufkin. I don’t think I can help you until you want to be better.” Snufkin’s mouth fell open.

“There’s- there’s nothing wrong with me.” He stuttered. Too-Ticky smiled. “Proves my point. Listen. Sit down. Eat this,” She said, handing him a bowl of soup from off the stove. She raised an eyebrow at Snufkin’s face. “Eat it. Just a little. I can’t let you walk home starving. When you’re finished, we'll go back to your family. You'll Talk with them.” Snufkin dipped his spoon into the bowl, and ate.

“Ok.” He said. “Ok.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some Pasty Fooligan: Hey Spoonck I thought Too-Ticky only showed up at the bathhouse in the wintertime  
> Me, a coward: What woah wow hey Too-Ticky's been here all this time!!!!! :)
> 
> P.S: I would die for Moominmamma and Too-Ticky


	6. Tell It All

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have you ever had a dream? That you, um, you had, your, you, you could, you'll do, you, you wants, you, you could do so, you , you’ll do, you could, you, you want, you want them, to do you so much, you could do anything?

Too-Ticky’s hand was firm on Snufkin’s arm as they walked along the bridge. She glanced at Snufkin reassuringly as they approached the door to Moominhouse. She went to knock at the door, but Snufkin held out a hand.

“Wait,” He said, biting his lip. “Couldn't I just-” he trailed off at Too-Ticky’s gaze, firm, but sympathetic, and kind. So kind. His stomach ached.

“You don’t have to eat,” Too-Ticky said. “And you don’t have to stay. You don’t even have to stop doing this. No one can force you. But you can’t stay here, with this family and with your friends and refuse to even talk about it.” Snufkin looked at her, feeling anxiety well up in his stomach and his tear ducts.

“But, I can’t-” He began, but Too-Ticky held up a hand to stop him. “This family loves you. They want to help you. You can talk. At the very least, tell them what you told me.” Snufkin bowed his head, and took a deep, shaking breath.

“Alright, then.” He said. Too-Ticky nodded, awarding him a patient smile, and knocked brusquely on the door. There was a subsequent pitter-patter of footsteps, frantic and rushed, and the door was opened. Moomintroll stood in the doorway, looking disheveled and terrified. His jaw dropped at the sight of Snufkin standing there. For a moment, he said nothing. Then, he rushed forward and embraced Snufkin, practically squeezing the life out of him. Too-Ticky stepped back to give them space. Snufkin’s hands hovered in mid air for a moment, before they gently settled on Moomintroll’s shoulders. Moomintroll let out a quiet sob, shaking slightly. He pulled back to look deeply at Snufkin’s face, taking it into his hands, and brushing a thumb over Snufkin’s cheek. A tear ran down Snufkin’s face, and Moomintroll brushed it away. Snufkin felt his shoulders shaking. Wordlessly, he put his arms out, hesitantly and slowly, as if afraid he’d be refused. Once more, Moomintroll wrapped his arms around Snufkin, gently tracing circles into Snufkin’s back, as Snufkin buried his face into Moomintroll’s shoulder. Then, Moomintroll gently wrapped an arm around Snufkin’s waist, and ushered him inside. Behind them, Too-Ticky smiled, wiped her eyes, and quickly stole off into the night. This was none of her business, though she deeply wished to stay. Hopefully Snufkin would come and see her again, and hopefully he would be a little better than he was now.

-X-X-X-

Moomintroll led Snufkin into the living room, where the rest of the Moomin family and Little My sat. Moominmamma stood up at their approach, her hand raising as if to take Snufkin’s hand. Snufkin opened his mouth, closed it again, took off his hat, and set it aside. He turned back to the- his family, and quietly sat beside Moomintroll. He looked down at his shaking paws, and up into Moomintroll’s compassionate eyes. He looked back at the rest of his family, who were surprisingly silent as they wished for him to speak.

“I’m sorry,” He said. Moomintroll’s paw landed on his knee, a gentle reminder. “I shouldn’t have worried you.” Moominmamma stood up, and walked towards a blue-and-yellow tea service, picked it up, and set it down on the coffee table in front of Snufkin. Wordlessly, she began to pour out a cup of tea. Snufkin coughed. Little My shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Moominmamma straightened up, and set the cup of tea in front of snufkin, and took her seat. She smiled.

“We were very worried, Snufkin. Terribly concerned.” Moominpappa said, attempting to begin a conversation. Snufkin looked at him, and looked away, sensing the tension in the room building. Snufkin looked at the tea, and then at Moominmamma. She gave him a long, measured look. Wordlessly, she gestured at the teacup. Moomintroll frowned. “Mama-”

Snufkin slowly reached for the cup, picked it up and took a long sip. Something in the room seemed to dissipate, tension releasing. Snufkin glanced at Moominmamma. Something in her eyes seemed to soften. She sighed. She sounded weary.

“I cannot accurately state how angered I was by your… state, Snufkin.” She said, voice calm and calculated. Snufkin felt his heart drop. What had he done? They were furious, he knew. He had ruined everything. His head dropped. Moomintroll rubbed his knee lightly.

“Whatever someone did… Whatever happened to you, to make you act in such a way… to make you do this to yourself… you did not deserve it, my dear.” Snufkin’s head snapped back up, jaw dropping in shock. Moomintroll nodded, before clearing his throat.

“I don’t understand it,” He said slowly. “I feel guilty, for not trying harder to, at first. It made no sense to me. But…” And he looked directly at Snufkin, and Snufkin felt his heart thump pitifully in his emaciated chest. “But… I understand you. Or at least… I try my best to. And sometimes… We don’t understand things… But that doesn’t mean we can’t learn, and respect, and grow.” He took a long, deep breath, looking straight ahead.

“We had a little girl stay with us for a while. Her name was Ninny, and she was invisible. We all tried to help her, but it was clear right from the beginning none of us knew how. Still, we did our very best, trying everything from… scaring her, to patronizing her, to trying to force her into things she didn't want to do. We even consulted Granny’s book of recipes… But nothing worked.

“Eventually, we learned. We needed to learn, we always had. It was us who needed to change. None of us had ever bothered to ask Ninny how she felt, or what she wanted. That was our mistake. If we had simply been more open to listening and learning…” Moomintroll shook his head. “But Snufkin, I don’t know what causes you to do this. I don’t know why you want to hurt yourself like this. I don’t know what you see when you look in the mirror… but I wish you could see what I- what we see.” Snufkin felt himself begin to cry again, shielding his face with a hand. Moomintroll wrapped his arms around him.

“Buck up, young lad. We’ll be here, all the way.” Moominpappa said comfortingly.

“We’ll help you out, you fool boy.” Little My said. She was smiling, despite her shining eyes. Snufkin lowered his hand to look at Moominmamma. She was smiling, and crying all at the same time.

“We’ll help, dear. We want to understand. Please talk to us.” She said.

Snufkin licked his lips, and took another sip of tea.

“I… I was alone. For so long.” He said. “I grew up in a home with so many siblings… Sometimes you just… get ignored. Sometimes… Many times, someone takes your food, and you don’t get to eat. You just want to be left alone… And they’d throw rocks at me. Pinch me. Scratch me. So… I ran away. I don’t even know if they remember me.

“I escaped to an orphanage. It was cold, and so dark, and there were barricades on the windows, and the food was so thin. I… I began to turn invisible. And I escaped, eventually, but… When I reappeared, I saw the first sight of myself in a ponds reflection, and all I could think was…” He paused, trying to steel his nerves, and let out a low sob. “All I could think was… I was so ugly. I was hideous. And I felt… Maybe that’s why they never noticed me, at home.” Moomintroll huffed in anger, Little My crossed her arms, staring at the floor, a tear running down her face.

“I… It became something I could rely on. Never eating… being thin… it was a comfort. Being hungry was a comfort.” He bit his lip, wishing he could chew it off, chew all of his skin off until he was nothing more. He looked down at his feet, at his teacup, at anything but his friends, his family.

“All I want- I mean to say… I don’t deserve you. You’re all… you’re all so good. You’re so beautiful, and kind, and wonderful, and I ruin everything for you. I’m disgusting, and hideous, and I just can’t-” He dissolved into sobs, which wracked his slight form. Moomintroll clutched him tighter.

“You are not a burden to us. You do not ruin anything. We love you Snufkin. We adore you, here. You’re a part of our family.”

Snufkin shook his head. “You don’t understand. I’m- I’m a monster.” Moomintroll put a hand to Snufkin’s chin, lifting it up to meet his eyes.

“We love you.” He said, voice so quiet, but so calm. Snufkin tried to think of a line of defense, tried to find a reason to pull away, to deny, to refuse, but could find none, and to his amazement, found no reason to want to find one. He slowly nodded.

“Do you really… really mean that?” He asked.

“We do.” Said Moominmamma. Snufkin looked at her, tear tracks vibrant on his face.

“Moominmamma… I’m sorry. I’m sorry for all of this. I’m sorry I didn’t stay.” He said, wracked with guilt. She patted his hand, and leaned across to him, and embraced him.

“That’s alright, love.” She said. “That’s alright.”

Snufkin huffed a shaky breath, and smiled slightly.

“...Is there anything left of dinner? I’m starving.” He said.

-X-X-X-

Snufkin and Moomintroll shared a bed that night. Moomintroll had voiced his opinion that it wouldn’t be right for Snufkin to sleep alone that night, on such a cold evening, and to his surprise, Snufkin had agreed. They lay beside each other, warm in the cold spring night.

Moomintroll sat up, slightly, looking down at Snufkin’s sleeping figure. His shoulder rose and fell as he slept on his side, his pale skin illuminated in the moonlight. He looked so sweet, so calm, so peaceful. Moomintroll studied his face carefully.

Things were going to be very difficult. One couldn’t go from starving themselves to eating normally overnight. Moomintroll knew things would need to be talked about, understood. There would need to be lots and lots of listening. But Moomintroll was ready to listen.

“I’ll protect you,” He whispered. “I promise, my Snufkin.”

That night, Moomintroll dreamed of a long dark forest. He found himself walking through the woods, until he came to a clearing, with a glass coffin in the middle. He walked forward, until he stood in front of it, gazing inside. There lay Snufkin, looking so pale and sickly. Moomintroll felt tears spring to his eyes.

“Dead,” he said. “But he’s so beautiful…”

Slowly, his hands opened the coffin lid, and he leaned forward, and kissed Snufkin’s lips. As he did so, the color flooded back to Snufkin’s cheeks, and he looked healthier than he had in ages. His sparkling brown eyes opened, and he smiled at Moomintroll, as his lips parted in a grin.

“My hero-” He said, and then Moomintroll woke up.

He looked around the room at the bright golden light flooding the room. He got out of bed, noting Snufkin’s absence, and looked towards the bathroom door. He approached it slowly, hearing the sounds of retching within. He realized exactly what Snufkin was doing with sudden horror.

“Snufkin!” He cried.

There was a sudden silence on the other side of the door.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like if this were a play, Moominpappa would be really genuinely angry with me because he only has like, two lines this entire chapter


	7. When You're Finished, We'll Talk More

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Take it to the bank boys, this ones just like snufmin

Snufkin froze, hunched over the toilet. His stomach turned ferociously, his forehead sweaty and pale, his lips chapped and his heart pounding. He held his breath as if Moomintroll would decide it was all in his imagination. There came a knock on the door, firm and steady. Snufkin closed his eyes.

“Snufkin!” He heard Moomintroll call. “Open the door!” Snufkin gasped and flushed the toilet hurriedly, watching the evidence disappear. The doorknob rattled. Snufkin leaned over, and twisted the lock open. Instantly, Moomintroll burst in. Snufkin stood on shaking legs. Moomintroll took his face in his paws, examined him for injury, checked Snufkin’s paws, his arms. He stood back, breathing heavily.

“I heard you being sick,” he said, voice suspicious and accusing. “Did dinner not agree with you?” Snufkin was quiet, fidgeting with his paws.

“Snufkin, please answer me. Are you alright, or shall I get mama?” Snufkin shook his head. Moomintroll looked at him slowly, eyes wandering from him to the toilet, and back again. His face softened, something like sympathy and compassion in his eyes.

“Snuf.” He said. “My Snuf.” Snufkin pushed past him into their (Their? Moomintroll’s.) bedroom. Moomintroll watched him pull a shirt on over the bandages wrapped around his chest, pull on his socks and boots, pull on his tattered vest over the old white shirt.

“...Do you want to talk about it?” He said. Snufkin shook his head.

“I have nothing to say.” Snufkin said. Moomintroll frowned.

“If you’re sick, you shouldn’t hide it. You shouldn't not want to be well, Snufkin.” Snufkin sat up, and let out a harsh, dry laugh. That really summed up this whole ordeal, didn’t it? He stood, and walked downstairs, Moomintroll following the whole way. Snufkin made his way to the door, but Moomintroll stood in front of it. Snufkin stared at him, mouth agape.

“Let me through.” He said.

“No.”

“Who do you think you are?” He spat. “You can’t keep me in here.”

“I’m your friend, and I’m not. I want to talk with you. I want to talk to you about this. Snufkin. Please. Let’s sit down, have some breakfast, and-” Snufkin growled.

“This-” He said, jabbing a finger at Moomintroll, feeling angrier than he had in a long time. “-Is why I didn’t want to say anything last night. This is what happens. Now you lock me up, lock me away, put chains on my wrist, tie me down, and all in the name of my good health.” Moomintroll moved to take Snufkin’s hand, but he pulled away. Why was he so angry? His stomach churned. He turned, and began walking away.

“Snufkin, no. No. I swear that isn’t it. I swear.”

“Then explain why you want me to stay, to do what you want, to live by your rules.”

“It’s just-” Moomintroll fought to find the right words. “Have- haven’t you ever loved, Snufkin?” Snufkin froze, heart thumping.

Yes. Yes I have. Yes I do.

“No,” He said. “I don’t know.”

“Well… Sometimes you love something. Or someone. You love them- it- them, so much… you feel you’d die if something happened to them. And… you don’t want to control them. You don’t want to hurt them, or… restrain them, but you want to know they’re safe. You want to know they’ll be alright. And… I know you’re smart, Snufkin. I know you can take care of yourself. But I’m worried you don’t want to. I’m worried that no one has ever taken care of you before, and… and that’s why you don’t, Snufkin.”

Snufkin was silent.

“Haven’t… Haven’t you ever felt like that, Snufkin?” Moomintroll said hesitantly. Snufkin’s lips parted, and closed.

“Yes.” He whispered.

“About… loving someone?”

Snufkin nodded, slowly. Moomintroll walked up to him, put an arm around Snufkin’s waist.

“Let’s get you a little breakfast.” He said. Snufkin was quiet, but went with him complacently.

-X-X-X-

The Joxter reclined on a branch, gnawing on a fish bone as he thought to himself. Snufkin was not in the forest, nor in the fields, nor by the river. Not even by the sea. So where could he be?

The Joxter thought hard. There had been a tall, blue house he had noticed on his journeys. But Snufkin didn’t like civilization. Surely he wouldn’t have…

The Joxter considered it. Who was he to say snufkin wouldn’t have gone there? At the very least, he could check. The Joxter rolled off the branch, landing on the ground on his feet. He set off.

Time to find his son.

-X-X-X-

Moomin nervously watched Snufkin toy with the breakfast he had prepared for him. His fork stirred over it, twirled it, pushed it apart. He gnawed at his lip. Moomintroll watched him, a frown building in his face. Snufkin, who was very much Not Making Eye Contact mashed his eggs with his fork. Moomin wordlessly reached for the pitcher of juice and refilled Snufkin’s glass. Snufkin reached for it wordlessly. The shadows under his eyes looked prominent. His face looked gaunt. Moomintroll reached out to take Snufkin’s hand as he reached for his glass again.

“That’s the third time I refilled your juice.” He said worriedly. “Will you take a bite of your eggs, just for me?” Snufkin tried to pull his hand away, but Moomintroll kept a firm grip on it.

“I don’t-” Snufkin said, but Moomintroll held up a hand. “Snufkin. Will you try some? Just a little?”

Snufkin’s lip twitched. “Will you send me to bed without dinner if I don’t?” He felt cruel. Moomintroll scowled.

“Snufkin-”

“Maybe you won’t let me have dessert.” He said.

“Snufkin.”

“You might make me sit here until I eat it.”

“SNUFKIN!” Moomintroll shouted, standing up, slamming his paws onto the table. “WILL-YOU-LISTEN!” He yelled. He wanted to take Snufkin by the arm, make him listen, somehow convince him to understand- understand how much he meant to him, how he couldn’t imagine a world without Snufkin, didn’t want to see Snufkin waste away… Snufkin flinched against the chair, face dropping into his hands. Moomintroll faltered, all the anger disappear in him. Snufkin’s shoulders shook and he whimpered. Moomintroll moved around to him and wrapped his arms around him.

“I’m so sorry,” He said. “I’m sorry, Snufkin.” He buried his snout against Snufkin’s face. Snufkin shook his head, shakily reached for the fork, and stuffed a bite of food in his mouth.

“There.” He said. “Are you happy? Is that enough?” A tear rolled down his face. Moomintroll took a step back.

“Snufkin, I-”

“What is it you want?” Snufkin said, standing up, shoving the chair away to face Moomintroll. “What do you want from me?”

“I want you to be healthy. I want you to be happy!”

“By forcing me? By refusing to listen to my point of view?”

“I will not listen to your point of view if your point of view consists of starving yourself!”

“I- I am not starving.” Snufkin spat.

“You are hurting yourself.” Moomintroll said. “I want you to be alright. I don’t want this for you.”

“What do you want? You want me to be enormous?”

“No, I want you to be ALIVE!” Moomintroll said, grabbing Snufkin’s paws.

“And-and what do you care? Why does that matter to you?” Snufkin found himself saying, realizing how terrible his words were as they came out of his mouth.

Moomintroll’s jaw fell open, eyes wide. His heart broke in two. The sheer disbelief at what Snufkin had just said. How could Snufkin say that? How could Snufkin not care about himself? What did Snufkin see when he looked in the mirror? How was it different from what Moomintroll saw? The feelings, the emotions, his thoughts of Snufkin late at night welled up in him, like a teapot spewing steam, just on the edge of boiling over.

“BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!” He yelled, paws sliding to grip Snufkin’s biceps.

There was a stunned silence that followed. Snufkin’s thin paw slid up to cover his mouth. Moomintroll slowly released him. Snufkin nearly staggered away, and sat down heavily in his chair. Moomintroll put a paw on his shoulder.

“N-” Snufkin said, and shook his head. He looked back up.

“Y-you-you…” he wheezed, and slumped against the table, openly crying. Moomintroll fluttered, paws hovering around him in anxiety.

“Snufkin,” He said tenderly.

Snufkin sniffled.

“Snufkin.” Moomintroll’s voice was soft, and so kind. So very kind.

“How long?” Snufkin shakily asked.

“How long?” Moomintroll repeated. Snufkin nodded. Moomintroll smiled.

“Since we first met.” He said. Snufkin sobbed.

“You don’t. You don’t.” He said.

“Snufkin, I do!”

“No. You don’t. You don’t understand!”

“I know how I feel, Snufkin! I know I love you!”

“You don’t love me. You can’t love me! You don’t see- I don’t know what you see, but it isn’t right. I’m disgusting. I’m a monster, and you- you’re perfect. You’re amazing. You’re so good.” Moomintroll stepped away from him.

“When I look at you,” He said, feeling as though he were about to jump off of a cliff. “I don’t see someone disgusting. I don’t see a monster.” He felt terrible. He should have talked more. He should have told Snufkin how he felt the whole time. “I see someone stronger than me. Someone who survives, despite everything pitted against him. I see someone fighting against his own mind, and I see someone who will win. Because you’re the one who’s amazing. You’re the one who’s good. And Snufkin, I love you. And if you don’t love me- I understand. But I will not allow you to say these things about yourself, and I will not allow you to put yourself through pain anymore.”

Snufkin raised his head. In all his years… No one had ever said anything like that to him.

“Moomintroll, do you mean that?” He said.

“I do.”

Snufkin shakily stood up, and embraced Moomintroll. Slowly, Moomintroll skimmed a paw along his jaw and lifted it up towards his face before bringing Snufkin’s face closer to his.

“Moomintroll,” He said. “Moomintroll.”

Moomintroll brushed his mouth against Snufkin’s, and the world went blank. Snufkin felt his heartbeat echo in his ears. His face felt warm. His legs buckled slightly as Moomintroll wrapped his arms around Snufkin’s waist. Slowly, they drew apart. Snufkin’s eyes were starry as he looked up at Moomintroll.

“What happens now?” He dared to ask. Moomintroll smiled.

“We have breakfast.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Other Snufmin writers: Beautiful prose, wonderful relationship dynamics   
> ME: "The big whiteman kissed green goblin, because he was in love. They smiled and kissed lovingly. They were in love."


	8. But I Didn't Know How (So We Took It In Turns)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this chapter has taken so long. I've been really tired lately. I will try to do better. Thank you for reading!

Snufkin slowly raised his pipe to his lips and inhaled carelessly, gaze fixed somewhere off in the distance. A thumb traced a light cut on his wrist. He had made it a couple of hours ago, sick with guilt over his feelings of Moomintroll. It was already beginning to form a scar. Snufkin licked his dry lips, as Moomintroll bustled around inside making him breakfast. It would probably be big. It would probably be unhealthy. Snufkin ran a hand over his abdomen, tracing his ribs.

_Perhaps- Perhaps one meal wouldn’t hurt me._

_Well. That’s only the beginning. One meal leads to another. Snufkin knew that well enough._

_But that doesn't mean anything either. Two meals. What does that do? Practically nothing._

Two meals. Three meals a day. Snacks in between. Desserts often. Teatime. It made him sick to think about it. All the food. All the food they wanted him to eat. How many hours did it equal to? All the time spent eating, crunching, swallowing. It revolted him to think about it.

_But why is it alright for everyone else to eat that way? Why can’t I eat?_

Snufkin coughed as he inhaled another stream of tobacco. He had been coughing a lot, lately. It might’ve been the bandages around his chest, (Lucky Moomintroll didn’t know about those, really.) and it might’ve been the smoking. He certainly had been smoking a lot recently. It helped him take his mind off eating. His lips felt so dry. He gnawed at one, chewing until he tasted blood faint in his mouth. Why couldn’t things be right? Who decided eating had to be a necessity and a punishment as well? How was that fair?

Snufkin heard the rustle of a bush and looked over. Another dead bird was lying on the ground, not but ten feet in front of him. He gasped, and jumped to his feet.

“No!” He cried. “Not again!” He clambered down the steps, and gingerly picked the poor thing up. As he looked up, his eyes met ice blue within the depths of the bush. Snufkin gasped and fell backwards. A man, taller and broader than him, with coarse black hair and blazing blue eyes stared at him, before breaking into a broad smile.

“Nice to meet you! I’m your dad!” The man said. Snufkin’s jaw dropped. The man’s brow furrowed and he reached forward to Snufkin, who scrabbled backwards. The man held up his paws.

“Say there, it’s alright. Don’t worry. I’m your father. What’s for lunch? You look like you need it.” Humming, the man stepped around to Snufkin, leaned down, _lifted him up, and carried him to the porch._

“Put me down!” Snufkin yelled, struggling in the strange man’s grip. “Who are you?!”

“Easy, now,” The man said, setting Snufkin into his chair. “I already told you! I’m your father.” Snufkin shook. The only parent he knew of was the Mymble. She had never mentioned a father to him. But- could this man possible be-

“I don’t believe you,” He said. “You could be lying to me.” Wordlessly, the man reached around his neck and pulled off a necklace with a locket at the end. He handed it to Snufkin. Snufkin opened it. Inside was a picture he vaguely remembered taking- a picture of him and the mymble. Snufkin looked back up at- his father?

“Is it true?” He said, quiet as falling snow. His- his father nodded.

“My name’s Joxaren,” His father said. “Some folk call me The Joxter. But you can call me Father. Or dad. Or papa. I am not sure which. You can choose!” Snufkin looked at his feet, and put his face in his hands. He had a father. A father who came this way to meet him? All this way? Why had he never met him before? Why was he in a bush? Why was there- Snufkin sat up straight.

“Did you kill that bird in front of the bush?” He demanded. The Joxter looked sheepish.

“Well, yes. But-”

“The- The bird when I was traveling. Was that you as well?”

“Well, you know...” The Joxter grinned.

“Why are you killing birds?! _Stop leaving me dead birds!”_ Snufkin cried. The Joxter threw his hands up.

“I thought you didn’t know how to hunt! You’re so skinny, I decided to bring you some so you wouldn’t starve!” Snufkin felt disgusted, horrified, yet oddly touched. His father had cared enough to try and leave him food? Granted, it was an innocent creature that never knowingly did harm to anyone, but still- it was an act of love?

“I- I know how to hunt. I know how to find food for myself.” He said uncomfortably. He realized suddenly that this would be the same conversation all over again. Would his father cry like Moominpappa had? Oh dear. He hoped not.

“So why didn’t you?” The Joxter said, blue eyes unwavering as he stared at Snufkin. Snufkin took a deep breath, struggling to find his words.

“I just… don’t want to eat.” He said, eyes fixed on the ground. The Joxter frowned in confusion. “I… I am afraid to eat.” Snufkin said, feeling a new cough build in his chest. He began to hack as the Joxter worriedly thumped him, (rather ineffectively on the back) concern mounting in his eyes.

“Why are you afraid?” He said. Snufkin wiped his lips, and cleared his throat.   
“I don’t know how to tell you. I just met you.” Snufkin said. Where was Moomintroll?  
“I’m your father,” The Joxter said. “You can tell me.”

“But this is the first time we’ve met. I can’t tell you all about myself on our first meeting!” The Joxter leaned forward, taking Snufkin’s hands. He reached up, and gently brushed some hair away from Snufkin’s forehead. “When, then?” He said, quietly. “When can I make up for the time I lost and know all there is to know about my son?” Snufkin felt a wave of guilt rise in him. Perhaps it wasn’t his father’s fault that he had never met him. Perhaps his father had merely never heard about him. It wasn’t his fault at all, really. Snufkin had never been very interesting or noticeable. He straightened up.

“Come to dinner tonight,” He said. “I’ll talk with you a little after.” The Joxter grinned, and before Snufkin could react, he leapt forward and squeezed Snufkin hard around the middle, pressing a kiss to his forehead. He drew back, arms still around his son.

“Too skinny,” He said. “I’ll show you the proper hunting tricks. We’ll get you healthy in no time.” Then he dashed off into the woods.

“I know how to hunt!” He yelled after him. The door slowly opened behind him. Moomintroll stood there, a slightly guilty expression on his face. He held a tray with rapidly cooling pancakes and tea. Snufkin eyed him.

“Were you just standing there?” Snufkin asked. Moomintroll nodded, not meeting Snufkin’s eyes.

“You heard everything?”

“...Yeah. Sorry, Snuf.”

“...It’s fine.”

Moomintroll set the tray down on the little outdoor table, and took a seat beside Snufkin. Snufkin slowly took a plate and fork. He glanced at Moomintroll, who was very much Not Eyeing Him Conspicuously, and took the smallest pancake on the tray. Moomintroll looked down, twiddling his thumbs, at the pancakes, and then at Snufkin. Snufkin caught his expression, and sighed.

“Let me at least try to finish one before you pile the rest on.” He said. Moomintroll guiltily nodded, before taking his own portion.

“So!” Moomintroll said. “Your father’s coming over.” Snufkin sighed.

“It would seem so, Moomintroll.”

-X-X-X-

Moominpappa raised an eyebrow as he watched his old friend stare at his son as he ate. He subtly cleared his throat, raising his eyebrow higher at the Joxter as he caught his eye, nodding his head in Snufkin’s direction. The Joxter nodded back, and stared harder at Snufkin. Moominpappa sighed in annoyance.

Well well well. His old friend, back again. Would wonders never cease? Moominpappa had always wondered what had become of his close friend. The Joxter had always been a strange old sort, napping in fruit trees and supply crates, smoking foul tobacco, cursing with wild abandon, and harassing the mice in the ships brig. His son was different from him in many ways, but also carried many of his fathers traits. One of them being his affinity for nature. Looking at the two, however, Moominpappa noted the physical differences. The Joxter was no brute, but he was tall, and broad, and had to duck under doorways in their home. Then again, anyone would look enormous next to Snufkin, who had gotten so thin, so small. A new pang of guilt shot through Moominpappa. How had he let it get this far? How hadn’t he noticed? He had always tried to be a father figure, of sorts, to Snufkin, seeing as how the poor young man had never had anything of the sort, but he had failed miserably in overseeing his health. It worried him greatly. Hopefully they could get the lad back into a spirit of good health- if he would only allow it! It seemed every step they took to help him eat, they took another two steps backward. Moominpappa had noticed the way Moominmamma watched Snufkin toy with his food, twirling it and mashing it together, gulping down his water glass after glass.

Moominmamma was a force not to be reckoned with. Especially when it came to food. But Moominpappa had the distinct feeling that She was at a loss for what to do when it came to Snufkin. How do you help someone who didn’t want to eat, short of forcing them?

This would make an interesting part of his memoirs- if only Snufkin would allow it to be put in. Snufkin wiped his mouth with a napkin, and went to stand. Before anyone could react, The Joxter lightly set his paw on Snufkin’s shoulder, gently steering him back into his seat.

“Just a bit more, love, then we’ll talk.” He said softly. Snufkin eyed him, and picked at his food.

But by dinnertimes end, despite his hesitance, a good quarter of the food from his plate was missing. Moomintroll beamed, glowed, all the happiness shining out of him, as he tried not to let his pride overwhelm him.

“Good job, Snuf,” He said quietly, brushing his paw against Snufkin’s bicep. Snufkin smiled slightly and nodded as he and the Joxter went to sit on the porch. Moominmamma began clearing away plates.

“You know,” Moominpappa found himself saying, “I think everything might just come out on top.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please Daniel we can't keep doing this
> 
> Also I feel like Moominpappa says 'lad' a lot


	9. To My Surprise, We Found My Words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for Self Harm. If you want to avoid that, please stop reading at the line "Last night, it had been cold," And start reading at "...and went back to bed." Please stay safe, guys

Snufkin fumbled to light his pipe, fingernail scratching against the head of the match futilely, as he ignored his father’s steady gaze. Snufkin noted how weak and yellowed his fingernails had become. His claws had once been thick and sharp, strong enough to shred through tree bark with little effort, and now they splintered as easily as dry wood. Wordlessly, The Joxter reached out, swiped the match before Snufkin could react (When had his reflexes gotten so bad?) and stowed it away. Gently, he reached out and took the pipe from snufkin’s paws.

“Give your lungs a break, son.” He said. “We’ve things to discuss.” Snufkin watched him. Everything felt harder to do and Snufkin was tired. He wished everyone would leave him be. He wished he could just sleep a while. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, baring his bone white throat. He sighed.

“Your mother, The Mymble called upon me two years ago,” The Joxter said. Snufkin felt His fathers eyes on him, but kept his eyes closed. “She had been rooting through her old drawers, and found the locket I showed you. She remembered you. I strongly suspect she might not have had she never found it.”

Snufkin’s eyelids flickered, but remained shut.

“She told me that you were my son. She felt horrified with herself to realize she had not only lost, but forgotten you. She feels it’s all her fault.”

Snufkin said nothing.

“And she would like to see you again.”

Snufkin sighed shakily.

“She wants to make up for what she did, apologize properly, and offer you a place to stay. She wants an opportunity for us to be a family again.”

“We never were a family in the first place.” Snufkin said, teeth gritted. The Joxter felt his heart plummet.

“I know. But nevertheless, she sent me to look for you, and I did. For two years. And finally, I found you. And I want to take you home, Snufkin.”

Snufkin straightened up and opened his eyes, turning to glare at his father. “Absolutely not.” The Joxter opened his mouth as if to say something, and then turned away. Snufkin continued.

“I grew up ignored. Do you know how often I got to eat? Do you know how stifling it is to live with so many siblings? It nearly killed me. I was invisible. I’m not going back.”

“But Son…”

“No. I don’t care if she’s sorry. Give me back my pipe!” The Joxter turned the pipe over in his fingers.

“Snufkin. I know I failed you. I know I’m not anyone’s idea of a good father, but I want to make it up to you.”

Snufkin sighed, weary. He felt desperately in need of a smoke, fingers twitching as he brushed calloused fingertips over burn scars. He bowed his head.

“You don’t understand.” He said. The Joxter quietly set the pipe aside. He turned, and took his son’s hands, brushing a tan thumb over Snufkin’s smaller one.

“So tell me.” He said. “Tell it all.”

Snufkin closed his eyes.

“I’m so tired.” He said quietly. The Joxter nodded.

“But it’s not the kind of tired where you sleep and you feel better. It’s the kind of tired where you want to lie down forever, and never open your eyes again.” The Joxter squeezed Snufkin’s hand gently.

“Why don’t you eat?” He asked. Snufkin bit his lip briefly.

“I want to.” He said. “I’m so hungry…” The Joxter watched him, and looked off into the distance. “I could bring you food,” The Joxter said. “I’d bring you anything you wanted to eat.” Snufkin shook his head. “I just can’t. I’m scared. I’m afraid.”

-X-X-X-

The Joxter’s heart broke as he watched his son begin to quietly cry. And all because The Joxter was such a terrible father. Why had he ever left the Mymble? Why hadn’t he stayed? He could have been there. Things could have been better.

His lip trembled. Things would be better now. He was here. That was the most important part. Slowly, he wrapped his arms around his child, and pressed a kiss to his son’s head.

“You don’t have to be,” He whispered. “I’m here, now.”

Snufkin lifted a hand to his eyes. “And how long til you go?” He asked.

“I don’t know. But when I do, I’ll take you with me.”

Snufkin raised his head.

“Will you let me think about it?” He asked. The Joxter grinned.

“Take all the time you need, dear. We’ve the whole summer.”

-X-X-X-

That night, Moomintroll dreamt he was standing on a cliff, overlooking the sea. Snufkin stood at the edge, arms wrapped around himself tightly. Moomintroll’s heart thudded in alarm.

“Snufkin!” He cried out. “Come away from the edge!” Snufkin turned towards him, tear tracks running down his face, and then back to the cliff.

“I’m sorry…” He heard dream-Snufkin call. “Moomin…”

And slowly, Dream-Snufkin leaned backwards, until gravity took him away.

“Snufkin!” He called.

“Moomin…”

“Snufkin!”

“Moomin… Sorry…”

“Snufkin!”

“Moomin, wake up!”

Moomin sat upright, as Snufkin pulled a shirt over his head. Snufkin stared at him in a bemused manner.

“We’re going to the beach,” He said cautiously.

“Says who?” Moomintroll said, addled and concerned from the dream as it slowly wore off of him.

“Says Moominmamma. Get your trunks. We’re leaving soon.” Snufkin turned and headed towards the door. Moomintroll bolted out of bed.

“Snufkin, wait!” He said, unsure of why he was so worried. Snufkin looked toward him.

“If… If you were… Feeling like hurting yourself, you’d tell me, wouldn’t you?” Moomintroll hesitantly asked. Snufkin’s hand twitched, and he coughed.

“...Of course, Moomintroll. Now, come on.” Snufkin wouldn’t meet Moomintroll’s eyes.

Moomintroll got up, and followed Snufkin outside, where Moominmamma, Moominpappa and Little My waited.

“It’s about time!” Little My crowed.

“That’s enough, dear. Come on, loves. Let’s be off.” Moominmamma said, and off they went.

As they walked down the path to the beach, Moomintroll admired the way the morning sunlight cast strands of gold in Snufkin’s hair. What a lovely thing. What a lovely young man he was. Despite the beautiful day, and despite the beautiful view in front of him, Moomintroll couldn’t help but feel worried, as he reached out and took Snufkin’s hand gently in his. And so they walked down to the sandy shore, where to Moomintroll’s surprise, Snorkmaiden and Sniff stood.

“Well, hello there!” Snorkmaiden called out, giving them a friendly wave. Sniff looked up from the sand castle he was building and waved as well.

“We thought you weren’t coming!” He said. Moomintroll grinned, casting a glance at Snufkin, who was fidgeting with the end of his coat.

“Well, we’re here now!” Moomintroll said. Moominmamma began to set out blankets. Moomintroll and Snufkin took a seat on one. Snufkin lit his pipe without thinking, taking a long drag of it, transfixed by the calm, rolling waves. In the distance, He thought he saw Too-ticky on the dock by the bathhouse. He looked away, rubbing a bicep.

Last night, it had been cold. Despite the warm summer night, Snufkin had felt cold to the very marrow of his bones. His lips had trembled, and no matter how he pressed against Moomintroll, he felt like the Groke was right beside him. In the middle of the night, he had risen, and gone down to the cellar, and spent many hours staring into the rows and rows of jars of food he would not allow himself to eat, and then stared at a glass jar that had shattered on the floor, that someone had neglected to clean up. After he contemplated it, he had picked up a shard, and pressed it gingerly to the soft flesh of his white forearm, marveling at the pain, wondering how he could deserve that pain, and wondering how something could hurt like that. 

And then, he washed the blood away, and went back to bed.

Moomintroll nudged Snufkin.

“It’s very warm, you know,” He said, twiddling his thumbs. He had pulled on his swim trunks. “Wouldn't you like to swim?” Snufkin fiddled with the collar of his coat. A bead of sweat like melted glass rolled down his forehead.

“No,” He said, licking his lips. Moomintroll frowned.

“You look very hot,” He said, cringing within at the choice of words. “Wouldn’t you at least like to take off your coat?” Snufkin went very quiet, thinking it over. Finally, he looked at Moomintroll.

“Will you undo the buttons for me?” He asked. Smiling, (and blushing a bit under his fur, though he would never have admitted it,) Moomintroll carefully undid the buttons in the back of Snufkin’s coat, fingers lingering on the thin spine, brushing against the willowy neck. Snufkin pulled it off. It was then that Moomintroll realized he had not seen Snufkin without the coat since last summer. Snufkin was not just thin, not at all. He was a skeleton. His ribs and spine were prominent through the thin layer of flesh, his stomach and back white as ashes. Moomintroll noted with particular worry the amount of scars, some fresh, and some new, littering Snufkin’s arms and waist. A band of constricting-looking cloth was wrapped fiercely tight around Snufkin’s chest. It didn’t look comfortable in the least, and the skin around it looked irritated and reddish. Without thinking, Moomintroll drifted a paw over Snufkin’s back, tracing a long scar. Snufkin stiffened.

“I’m sorry,” Moomintroll said, ripping his paw away. Snufkin turned to look at him, and his eyes were pleading.

“You don’t… you don’t have to stop. I don’t mind.” Snufkin said quietly. Slowly, Moomintroll lifted a paw back to Snufkin’s back, tracing over faded and fading scars. His paw lighted on a long, thin one near the base of Snufkin’s neck.

“What happened here?” He asked, voice low and gentle. Snufkin thought.

“Whip scar. The matron of the orphanage didn’t like how I wouldn’t look her in the eye.” Moomintroll scowled, and brushed it gently. He ran his paw lower, to another one, on Snufkin’s lower back. This scar was shorter, like a gash.

“This one?” He asked.

“One of the children at the orphanage threw a rock at me. It never faded.” Moomintroll felt furious that anyone could ever want to harm someone so beautiful, so sweet and good. Slowly, he reached a paw up to graze over the bandages. He looked over at snufkin, making eye contact with him.

“What’s this?” He asked. Snufkin took a deep breath.

“That’s nothing,” He said. “When I was a child, they thought I was a little girl mymble, and not a boy mumrik. Easy mistake. But the orphanage matron made me wear dresses, and sleep in the girls’s rooms… And she made me stay inside and clean while the boys went out and played. She never believed me when I told her she was wrong, but…” Snufkin looked away, breaking the eye contact. “So… when I got out… I grew older, and started to… look more like a girl. But I’m not. I’m not a girl! So, I…” And Snufkin made a helpless gesture at his chest.

“Doesn't seem very comfortable.” Moomintroll said. Snufkin waved his hand dismissively.

“Everyone thinks I’m a girl without it.” He said.

“I don’t think you’re a girl.” Moomintroll said. “I could correct those people when they say that.”

“But you can’t do that with everyone. Some people get angry.”

“Well… Do you ever take it off?” Moomintroll asked, fresh concern welling up in him.

“...Maybe a couple of times, a week.” Snufkin said sheepishly. Moomintroll’s mouth fell open.

“That’s why you’ve been coughing!” Moomintroll cried. “That awful pipe, and those bandages. Snufkin, you’ve got to go easy on your poor self. It’s simply terrible!” Snufkin hugged his knees, and shrugged.

“It makes no difference to me. You’re lucky. No one ever debates whether you’re a boy or not.” Snufkin said bitterly. Moomintroll frowned, and thought about this.

“You’re right…” He said. “Still…”

His eyes caught sight of a fresh, jagged looking scar on Snufkin’s forearm. Slowly, he took the thin arm in his paw and examined it.

“Snufkin.” He said, voice confident and full of authority.

“Hm?”

“Who did this one?” He said. Snufkin averted his eyes.

“I don’t remember.” He said. Moomintroll felt sorrow prod at his heart.

“It’s fresh, Snufkin.” Snufkin looked down.

“That one was me.” He said. Moomintroll fell silent. Snufkin looked back up at him. Slowly, Moomintroll leaned forward, and pressed a soft kiss to the scar. Snufkin’s mouth fell open.

“I asked you to tell me if you were hurting yourself.” Moomintroll said, quietly. Snufkin’s lip trembled. “I know.” He said. “But it’s harder than it seems, to do that.”

“It’s far, far harder to see you hurting.” Moomintroll said, and he pressed another kiss to the long thin scar on Snufkin’s neck. Snufkin was stiff, holding his breath.

“I like you to be happy. I don’t care much for how you look, even though I think you’re beautiful. But no matter what you look like, I would still love you more than anything.” Moomintroll brushed a kiss to the scar on Snufkin’s lower back. Moomintroll took Snufkin’s arm in his paw, brushing a thumb over so many scars, and then leaned forward, kissing every scar he could find.

“I wish…” Snufkin began, and then chewed his lip. Moomintroll looked up.

“I wish… I could see myself the way you saw me.” Snufkin said. Moomintroll realized now was a good time to listen.

“I… I want to get better. Well. No. I don’t, Moomintroll. But… I know you want me to get better… And that makes me want to want to get better. Does… does that make sense?” He said, voice trembling. Moomintroll nodded.

“It does. I understand, Snufkin. More than you think. And it isn't about how you look to me, or how heavy you are. I just want you to be safe.”

“And… I understand that, Moomintroll. But… I’m so tired. I feel like I don’t even have the energy to walk, some days.” Moomintroll stood up.

“Then I’ll carry you.” He said. Snufkin looked up in amazement.

“You can’t-” He began.

“Can’t I?” He said, and leaned down, and lifted Snufkin up into his arms.

“Lover, when you can’t walk, I’ll carry you. When you’re tired, I’ll stay the whole day in bed with you. If you’re tired of looking in the mirror… I’ll be your mirror. And I’ll tell you what I really see. I’m going to stay, Snufkin. I’m going to protect you and take care of you, and nothing’s going to keep that from me.” Snufkin wrapped an arm around Moomintroll’s neck, and burrowed his face into Moomintroll’s chest.

“I don’t deserve you,” Snufkin whispered.

“It’s not about deserving,” Moomintroll replied. “Though if it were, we’d be quite unfairly matched. You’re far too good for me, love. As it is, we’re suited to each other.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unga bunga me write feelings
> 
> Also Moomintroll said trans rights


	10. Feet Firm On The Ground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have a tumblus   
> say hi 2 me @ Whenthedeeppurplefalls.tumblr.com

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry 4 cliffhangerz

“Mamma?”

“Yes, Moomintroll?”

“Do… You know how to sew?”

“Of course I do, dear. Do you need something fixed?”

“...No. I was only wondering…”

“What is it?”

“Could you teach me how? To sew, I mean. I have something I’d like to make.”

“Of course, dear. Let me just get my sewing kit, and I think we have some spare fabric left over in the closet…”

-X-X-X-

Snufkin laughed as he followed Moomintroll up the mountain path. The sky was blue, the grass was green, the air was fragrant with apple blossom flowers and may trees and sweet honeysuckle, and above all, he was all alone with Moomintroll. They were climbing up to the mountain peak to get a view of the whole of Moominvalley. Then, they’d have a special picnic, all by themselves. Snufkin huffed for breath as he attempted to match Moomintroll’s pace.

“Slow down!” He called. “Wait for me, dear!” The bandages wrapped around his chest were twice as tight today, or so it seemed. They chafed with every movement, and pressed so hard that the faster he ran, the harder it became to breathe. That, accompanied by the odd tickle he’d recently developed in his lungs and his still-weak body, made the run uphill difficult. Moomintroll, looking back, slowed down and came to a stop, looking concerned.

“Alright there, Snufkin?” He called. Snufkin gasped for breath and finally came to a stop. His legs shook as he slowly braced his palms against them, bent over gasping for air. Moomintroll trotted over and placed a paw on his back.

“You should take a break.” Moomintroll said. Snufkin refused to look at him, refused to make eye contact. He couldn’t handle the amount of pity he would surely see in Moomintroll’s face. Snufkin gasped harder for breath, licking his dry lips, and shook his head.

“I’m fine,” He said, panting harshly. “But could we just walk for a while?” He said. Moomintroll nodded. Snufkin slowly straightened up and braced a palm against his chest as they walked up the path. His breathing came short and quick, jagged and abrupt. Something within him hurt deeply, but he wasn't certain where. Some sort of deep throbbing pain underneath his rib cage, felt as though he was going to rip apart, or break in two. He raised a paw to his mouth and coughed. It was a wet, painful cough, and he did it many more times. The faint taste of blood filled his mouth and he grimaced.

They stopped two more times on the way up the mountain. Snufkin was so exhausted by the time they got to the top, he lay on his side and let Moomintroll set up. He panted for air, pulling his shirt off, feeling as though his skin was boiling off. He gasped for shallow breaths, and coughed as he lay there, Moomintroll watching him with worry all the while. Finally, he sat up.

“I think I’ve got a cold.” He said to Moomintroll.

“It’s the bandages. And the lack of food. And the smoking. Snufkin, I love you, I want you to feel comfortable with yourself, but you have to take those off more often. They could hurt you!” Moomintroll looked at him with kind, pleading eyes, as Snufkin leaned on him. Snufkin rolled his eyes.

“I can’t.” Snufkin said tiredly. “Moomintroll, you don’t know what it’s like. I won’t ever be considered a man if I’m not wearing these bandages.”

“That doesn’t include the other two things, though. And there’s no one here to say anything to you. Snufkin, we’ve talked about this!” Snufkin considered this, looking back and forth between Moomintroll and his discarded shirt, before going to reach for the thermos of water. Moomintroll placed a paw over top his.

“Snufkin, please!” He said, eyes glistening with fear and worry.

“Moomintroll!” Snufkin said angrily. “That’s quite enough. I’m thirsty.” Moomintroll looked terribly guilty.

“Snufkin… Please. You’ve been coughing so much. You can put it back on when we go down, but for now, just for me, will you give yourself a rest?” Moomintroll begged. Snufkin thought about it, eyeing the water. Finally he threw his paws up, and sighed.

“Alright, fine.” He said. “Turn around, though.” Complying instantly, Moomintroll turned away, even covering his eyes with a paw for good measure. Shakily, Snufkin stood and began unwinding the constricting bandages. He gasped with pain as the layers unwound, feeling as if he were peeling off skin rather than cloth. How long had it been since he last took these off? Perhaps a week ago? Not nearly enough time, to him. He whimpered as the last of the bandages were removed, and he took his first deep breath of fresh air in a long while. Something creaked deep inside of him. He coughed, and it seemed to lighten the pain inside him slightly. He was reassured by this, but not much. He quickly reached for his shirt and pulled it on, disgusted by how it settled across his chest. He turned towards Moomintroll and sat down.

“Ok. You can open your eyes, now.” Snufkin said. Moomintroll opened his eyes, and removed his paw. Snufkin shakily reached for the water, nervous as Moomintroll’s eyes followed him. He took a long drink as Moomintroll nervously pulled at pieces of grass.

“It isn’t fair.” Moomintroll said suddenly. Snufkin looked over.

“What isn’t?” Snufkin asked.

“That… that you have to treat yourself like this. I don’t understand it. I don’t understand any of it, Snuf. I mean… Smoking is a vice. If that were the only thing, I’d feel fine about it. But… The starving, the bandages… It’s like you don’t even care about yourself, Snufkin! It’s like it doesn’t even matter to you!” Moomintroll was tearing fiercely at Snufkin now. Snufkin bit his lip for a moment.

“Maybe it doesn’t.” He muttered. Moomintroll’s jaw fell open for a moment, and then set itself stern.

“Well, it should.” He said, standing up, and walking over to face the cliff side. “It very well should. You want to know why?” He asked. Snufkin didn’t reply. Moomintroll turned back.

“It’s because you’re wonderful. And just because it’s fine to you to waste away- it’s not to me. So you don’t care about yourself? That’s- I wish that wasn’t how you felt. But… I care. So does your papa, so does Little My, and Moominmamma and Moominpappa, and Sniff, and Snorkmaiden, and so does everyone who meets you, Snufkin! Even if you don’t matter to yourself, you matter to them!” Moomintroll’s shoulders rose and fell in quick, juddering motions as his temper rose. He clenched his fists, wishing there were a way to make Snufkin understand. Snufkin lit his pipe.

“ _Oh, that’s enough!_ ” Moomintroll cried. “Don’t you _understand_? Loving you doesn’t just mean I think you’re wonderful. It means I want you to be around. It means I want you to be safe, and healthy! We’ve talked about this! You know how I feel, why do I have to keep repeating it?!” Snufkin shrugged, feeling sullen for reasons he couldn’t understand. Moomintroll sighed, and came to sit down next to him.

“At least you’re eating better,” Moomintroll said, casting a scornful glance at the lit pipe in Snufkin’s paw. “Well. Better than you were before. Not as well as you could be.” Snufkin grinned darkly.

“I could eat next to nothing and it’d be better than before.”

“Before, you were eating next to nothing. I wish you could eat for yourself, and not for me.”

Snufkin straightened up. He hadn’t thought about that at all. He really was doing all this for Moomintroll, wasn’t he? None of it was for himself. He wondered perhaps for the hundredth time why it was that he couldn’t be kinder to himself. He would never have treated anyone else this way. Come to think of it… If Moomintroll were treating himself this way… Wouldn't Snufkin feel upset, too? Wouldn’t he demand Moomintroll take better care of himself?

Snufkin frowned. Maybe… Maybe he could do better in how he ate. But not just for Moomintroll. For himself. Maybe he could smoke a bit less. Take a break from the bandages more often. At least take them off when he slept. But still… Snufkin sighed. He felt like he was going in circles. Crying, confessions, regression… He wished he could somehow just make a breakthrough. At the same time, he wished it could all just be a secret again. Things had been so easy, that way.

Wait a moment. Had they been? One of Snufkin’s main reasons for refusing to eat was… wanting to be able to have the strength to travel. If he couldn't travel because he didn't eat… Snufkin’s eyes widened.

The picnic passed quietly. Neither Snufkin nor Moomintroll had much to say, though they both had much to think about. And though Moomintroll watched Snufkin pick apart his portions, tearing a piece of bread into halves, then quarters, and then breaking those quarters apart until he finally ate a piece, he didn't say a word. And if Snufkin noticed Moomintroll watching, he said nothing as well.

Within an hour, it was already time to pack up and head back down. The trip down the path was a quiet and solemn affair. That was, until Snufkin felt a sharp pain in his chest where the newly reapplied bandages were wrapped. He gasped, grabbing his chest, coming to a stop.

“Snufkin?” Moomintroll said. Snufkin felt very very cold, and very very hot at the same time. Slowly, and quickly at the same time, (or so it felt to him,) Snufkin fell backwards, until he was looking straight at the sky. He heard Moomintroll call his name once more as Snufkin gasped for breath that was becoming harder and harder to achieve. Moomintroll ran up to him, slumping down beside him.

“What’s wrong? Snufkin, can you speak to me? Oh, please be alright…” Snufkin coughed roughly, spitting something up that tasted very much like blood. Moomintroll gasped in horror. Slowly, Snufkin braced his elbows against the ground, attempting to push himself up. Moomintroll placed a paw on his chest.

“Just stay down for a minute,” Snufkin heard him say. “I’ll carry you. It’s okay.” Snufkin shook his head, and pulled his shirt up with great difficulty, rolling over.

“I… just need… to take them off…” He wheezed, scratching at his chest. He couldn’t find the part where he had fastened the bandages together. Where was it? Why couldn’t he find it? He clawed at some portion of his chest, wincing as he accidentally scratched himself.

“Oh Snufkin, let me!” Moomintroll said. He felt gentle hands unknotting something at his back, and then pulling away at the tight layers. As he was freed of the constricting garment, he gasped for breath, pulling his shirt down, humiliated. Moomintroll, however, gasped, running a paw over his back.

“Oh Snufkin…”

-X-X-X-

Moomintroll gasped. The skin all around Snufkin’s upper back was terribly bruised, and irritated looking. It looked as if Snufkin was seriously hurt from those awful bandages! Moomintroll shuddered to think at how long he had kept them on. He might have really injured himself!

This was all the proof he needed that he needed to work on his ‘project’ all the faster. But that wasn’t important right now. Now, he rolled Snufkin over, and lifted him up.

“I’m fine… Let me walk.” Snufkin wheezed, sounding a little worse for wear. Moomintroll shook his head.

“You just breathe. I’ll carry you for now.” Moomintroll walked away, holding Snufkin as carefully as he could. Snufkin looked up as they walked.

“My bandages…” He said. “You left my bandages.” Moomintroll scowled. “It’ll be okay, Snufkin. We need to get you into a bed. You need rest right now.” Surprisingly, Snufkin lay back down without a fight. Moomintroll tightened his grip and walked faster.

It was time to help Snufkin. Before, he hadn't known what to do. He had been hesitant. Afraid. But Snufkin desperately needed help, and how could Moomintroll claim to love him if he didn't take care of him?

An hour passed, and though. Moomintroll felt exhausted from the climb, and carrying Snufkin, he kept going. Snufkin wheezed gently. Moomintroll continued onward, until finally, Moominhouse came into view.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
